I need a hero
by AllieCam
Summary: What if Cameron were to save House from jail rather than Cuddy? Please R&R cos my summaries are always terrible! Prolonged goodbyes...
1. Deal or no deal?

Disclaimer: not mine!

This is what I would have liked to see happen at House's trial. It was really great of Cuddy to save House's ass, but what if Cameron had stepped in to help him?

I wrote this as a sort of a House/Shark crossover. I wondered who the best lawyer would be to get our favourite drug-addict off the hook and it came to me...Stark (The Greggory House of the legal world!).

This fic is written as if House never went to Rehab (I know, it makes the episode so good, but trust me, Rehab and contempt of court really wouldn't work in my fic- call it poetic license!). Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The eve of the trial.

It was the day before the trial and everyone was acting normally.

Cameron couldn't bear it.

Cuddy was still yelling at House about clinic duty; Foreman was still arguing with him about treatments for their latest patient; Chase was still trying to win his approval with an amazing diagnosis that never came….and House, well, House was just acting like he might not be going to jail for ten years.

It had all gone too far.

House was an addict; Tritter had proven his point. But was it really necessary to hammer it in?

It had gone far enough. If House was willing to go to jail for his principles, then he couldn't change. Wilson, Cuddy and Tritter were wasting their time.

In order to get to House, Tritter had struck at him through his friends and employees. He claimed to be trying to protect patients from a doctor that bent the rules, but what was Tritter doing? He'd frozen House's fellows' accounts for no apparent reason- other than to make them roll over on their boss. He was using every dirty, underhanded trick he could think of to get at House. What he was doing went above and beyond the call of duty. The man was a hypocrite.

She'd kept silent when Wilson had sold out House (well, comparatively); she'd said nothing when he'd stolen a dead patients pills to get high; but now, she'd had enough. She couldn't cope with the situation anymore.

It was time to put a stop to it.

She sighed. She couldn't do it though if she didn't run it by House first. (Somehow she doubted that be would appreciate any interference on her part without a heads-up first).

There was nothing for it; she was going to have to talk to House.

* * *

She found him in his office playing his gameboy.

He didn't even look up as she entered.

"If you want to talk about feelings, you should try Wilson. I know he's just dying to talk to somebody about how much he's going to miss me."

It was a bad joke. Not even a joke. And as he uttered the words it seemed to Cameron like his heart wasn't really in it.

She watched for a few moments while he wrestled with his gameboy.

"I came to let you know that I'm quitting," her voice was completely neutral, she felt proud of herself when she heard it.

He looked up then, sending her one deeply searching look, before he replied: "Are you looking for a bigger parking spot this time? or are you hoping for another date?"

She didn't even flinch as his words lacerated her pride. Instead, she continued in the same, faintly bored tone, as if she hadn't heard him: "Tomorrow is my last day. I don't care about a reference," she added, "A friend of mine has already offered me a position."

He was on his feet: "I suppose I should be grateful that you're letting me know in advance. For future reference, though, saying nothing and leaving a goodbye note is much more dramatic."

She ignored the comment: "Before I leave, I wanted to ask you something."

He pulled a mock-exasperated face: "For the last time, I do not have feelings for you! I mean, the girlish obsession is flattering- if a little 'Fatal Attraction'…"

Her face hardened almost imperceptibly: "Do you want to go to jail?"

It wasn't what he had been expecting.

House was nonplussed for a moment, before he took refuge in heavy sarcasm: "Sure, I've been working towards it all my life. I just couldn't decide what I wanted to go down for. Drugs and forged prescriptions may not have the glamour of murder, but at least they're a little more original…oh wait, no they're not. My bad."

"House, for once in you're life, would you give somebody a straight answer," there was exasperation in her voice, though she tried to hid it, "_Do you want to go to prison?_"

"Of course not!" He shouted back, angry at her for not letting the subject drop. He didn't want to think about tomorrow. If it was his last day as a free man, he wanted to enjoy himself…instead of having this useless conversation with his youngest duckling.

Cameron was satisfied; she'd gotten the answer she wanted.

"In that case, I'm going to make you a deal."

"Are you going to take it off the table when you get what you want?" The reference to what Tritter had done was hardly comical.

She didn't respond to it: "I'm going to guaranty you that you won't go to jail tomorrow."

He was watching her closely: "And how are you going to do that?"

"That's my business," she evaded the question, "But in return, you have to do something for me."

"I'm not marrying you," he said sarcastically, "Sorry, I'm sure you're perfect wife-materiel, but I think I'd rather go to prison."

It was as if he was deliberately going out of his way to try to hurt her.

"That's ok, I'm sure you'd make a lousy husband," she shot back, and was pleased to see a gleam of amusement in his eyes, "No, I just want fifteen minutes of your time tomorrow, after the trial is over."

"Fifteen minutes of my time?" her boss stared at her as if she'd gone crazy.

"Fifteen minutes," she repeated, "I want to talk to you about something."

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Do we have a deal?"

House held out his hand to her, and Allison Cameron smiled as she slid her own into his and shook it firmly.

"Deal."

* * *

AN: What did you think? Was it too unrealistic? I know House was a little bit mean, but I've noticed that he's been getting worse! Please let me know if I can improve. I'll update as soon as I can (if you want me to!) 


	2. Preparations

Disclaimer: neither Shark nor House belong to me. More's the pity...

Thanks so much for reviewing! In particular to:

Dr. Cameron: how is it that you always manage to read and review?? I really appreciate it!

mishy-mo: Oh dear, I didn't think it was _that_ strange! I hope you like it all the same..

SilvaK: I'm glad that you appreciated my effort at humour.

Melissa Jooty: Thanks for your comments. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

I'm posting two chapters at the same time, because this one is a little short. I hope you guys enjoy them. Please let me know what you think.

* * *

House barely saw Cameron the following day.

She appeared briefly to make coffee and answer his deleted emails.

She didn't mention their little bargain, and neither did he.

He really didn't know what to make of it. How was she going to get him out of this? He racked his brains to think of anything that she might have let slip- a reference to a well-connected relative perhaps, but nothing surfaced.

She'd said that she was quitting, but he didn't take that seriously. She'd actually quit before, and then come back because he'd asked her. Sure, it'd cost him a really uncomfortable date, but it was a small price to pay for having things just the way he liked them- not to mention her great coffee.

He'd told Cameron time and time again that he didn't like her. But he did _need_ her.

He hated change. He'd shown it when he asked her to come back to work for him, and later when he'd demanded his blood-stained carpet back. He liked things the way he liked them. She was part of that.

He really hoped that she wasn't quitting- and that he'd be around to enjoy a cup of her java if she didn't.

He checked his watch. It was time for him to change and get ready for court.

* * *

Allison Cameron had avoided her boss all morning. She really wasn't up to him prodding at her to try and find out just how she was going to secure a verdict in his favour.

She'd meant what she said about quitting. She really couldn't take working for him anymore. He was a brilliant doctor, but a lousy boss- and quite possibly a lousy human being. When she'd first started working for him, and indeed during that first year, she'd thought that he'd had hidden depths; that the gruffness and sarcasm was just his way of keeping people from discovering them. She'd once thought that everything he did was because it was right, she'd even told him so. She didn't think that anymore.

Forging prescriptions on his only friend's prescription pad, and everything else that had followed, had shown her just how selfish he was. He really didn't care about anyone except himself. It didn't change the way she felt about him, of course. That had been a done deal long ago. But she was hoping that today she could do what Tritter had failed to do; she could humble him.

She checked her watch: it was time to start getting ready for the trial.

In the locker room, she changed quickly and fixed her hair. She slicked on a generous coat of red lipstick over her full lips, and gave herself a cursory glance in the mirror.

Perfect.

"It's show time, Allison," she told her reflection.

* * *

AN: Oooh, the suspense! Please review!


	3. Show time OR introducing Stark

Disclaimer: I own nothing...except my ideas...

Here is the next chapter. I'm REALLY nervous about this one (I've never written Stark before), so please tell me if I can improve on him.

Enjoy!

* * *

Greggory House paced the corridor outside the courtroom. He looked ill at ease in his smart black suit and white shirt.

No one had come to wait with him, and for that he was grateful.

He didn't want any of his subordinates' sympathetic gazes. He didn't need Cuddy's advice on how to handle himself in there. And he was still smarting after Wilson's betrayal.

It was just so unexpected.

Coming form anyone else, it wouldn't have shocked him, but Wilson was his best friend- his only friend. They'd been through so much together, and then he'd decided to stab him in the back by going to the police.

His musings can to an abrupt end when a voice behind him spoke:

"Dr. House."

House turned to see a man standing behind him. He was slightly smaller than House, broader, and infinitely better-dressed. He too was wearing a black suit, but it was very well cut, and set off by a very crisp white shirt and pink tie. His cufflinks looked expensive, as did his leather suit case, and he caught a glimpse of an shiny rollex on the stranger's wrist.

Dr. House's eyes ran over his sandy hair and craggy but expressive face, all the way down to his shiny leather shoes- and he drew his own conclusions.

"You're a lawyer," he stated.

The stranger laughed: "Very good, Dr. House. It must have been difficult to work that one out- us being in a courthouse and all," he went on as he held out his hand, "Allison sent me. I would have been here earlier, but my flight was delayed."

"She sent me a lawyer?" House wondered aloud, failing to clasp the lawyer's hand (it was something he rarely did).

The other man looked amused: "Well, from what I understand, you'd be better off with a priest, but Allison seemed to think that divine intervention would be a little over the top. So, she sent me instead. Although, in this world- I'm as close to God as you're going to get."

House stared at him, there was something about the other man that was familiar. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"You're from LA." It was a statement rather than a question; the accent was a dead give-away.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" the other man looked amused rather than offended, "Never mind. I assume your brain's a little fried from all those pills you've been taking."

"Oh, goodie. A drug-addict joke. That's real original," the doctor rolled his eyes.

"I'm Sebastian Stark."

Well, that answered one question. House had seen him before, alright- on TV. He'd been defending some movie star accused of murder. He'd won the case, although everyone had agreed that the guy had been as guilty as sin. All the networks had done their best to get a piece of the action, and pretty soon Sebastian Stark's face had been all over the news. At the time, they'd reported that he'd never lost a case. That had been two years ago. House wondered if he'd lost since.

"Since you're such a shit-hot lawyer, I'm assuming that your taking my case is a good sign," although there was sarcasm in his statement, it was really a question.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," there was amusement in Stark's voice.

"I shouldn't assume that you're taking my case, or that it's a good sign?"

"That it's a good sign," he responded, "I'm pretty much stuck with you. I owe Allison big time, she chose now of all times to call in a favour." He explained that he had been invited to a very, very exclusive event, and that he'd had to cancel when he got Cameron's call.

"She can be very persuasive," he smiled at House, "but then you probably already know that."

House tapped his cane against his foot: "It must have been a pretty big favour," his voice was laden with innuendo.

"She saved my daughter's life a few years back," Stark answered in a clipped tone, annoyed at the doctor's implication, "I told her if she needed anything, to give me a call. I'm surprised she thought you were worth it," he eyed the doctor speculatively.

"Dr. Cameron has a thing about hopeless cases," House responded shortly.

"Hmmm," Sebastian suddenly smiled, "I have to admit that I also wanted to meet the 'Sebastian Stark of the medical world'."

Both men turned as they heard House's name being called.

"What did you just call me?" House was sure that he hadn't heard right- he wasn't like _anybody_. Sarcastic and rude was his thing.

"Not me. That's what Allison calls you," he turned suddenly to his client, "I've never lost a case, and I'm damn well not about to start. Follow my lead and everything will be fine. If I can, I'll keep you off the witness stand."

"Afraid I'll out-shine you in the courtroom?" House asked jokingly.

"No, I'm afraid that I'll be tempted to give you enough rope to hang yourself," Stark replied seriously.

The bailiff called House's name again.

"Show time."

Sebastian Stark frog-marched his client into the courtroom.

* * *

AN: Please press that button that makes me so happy! 


	4. One angry immunologist

Disclaimer: Shark and House don't belong to me.

This chapter is really long, and it's one of two parts. I hope that anyone who was disappointed with Cameron's role so far will be pleased with it.

I'm not very well up on the courtroom stuff, so please don't judge me too harshly!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed- I love you all!

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

"All rise," the said bailiff loudly, as though the court room were filled with people and not empty pews, "the Honourable Judge Helen Davis is presiding."

House, Sebastian Stark, House's old lawyer, Tritter and the prosecutor got to their feet. The faint sound of a door shutting made House turn to see Wilson take his place behind him. It was like a wedding, House thought ironically. Groom's side. Bride's side. Did that make Tritter the bride? He allowed himself a faint smirk at the thought.

The Judge seated herself and banged her gavel.

"The court is now in session. Please be seated," she adjusted her glasses and looked at the prosecutor, "Are you ready to make your case councillor?"

"Your Honour, if it please the court, I would like to make it clear that my client has requested new lead council," House's old lawyer spoke up. He didn't seem too annoyed; it probably had something to do with the fact that Stark had already assured him that he could bill his client for the day in court, even though he wouldn't be doing anything.

"Your Honour, we received no notification of this," Simon Jones, the prosecutor spoke in an aggravated tone.

Judge Davis regarded him almost contemptuously over her glasses: "Neither did I, councillor, but (as you know) the defendant is perfectly within his rights to change council as many times as he wants to," she turned to House's new lawyer, "Would you care to introduce yourself so that we can get started?"

He stood up: "I'm Sebastian Stark, Your Honour."

The effect that this statement produced was surprising.

The Judge narrowed her eyes and leaned forward with interest; the prosecutor started and shot Detective Tritter a worried glance. Clearly they had heard of him.

"We're honoured, I'm sure, Mr. Stark," Judge Davis spoke drily, "Are you ready to begin?"

"Your Honour, the prosecution strenuously objects to this unexpected change in council-"

She cut across him without apology: "Mr. Jones, as I have already said, the defendant can chose whatever council he wants. Let's not delay things with useless arguments."

He sat down, looking abashed.

Stark got to his feet and stepped around the desk, buttoning his jacket as he did so: "Thank you, Your Honour, my client is particularly anxious to have this matter dealt with quickly- he has a very critical patient waiting for him who's health could be put in jeopardy because of Dr. House's presence here."

"Mr. Stark, please don't try my patience," she spoke severely, but Stark knew he had scored a point.

"The defence calls Dr. Allison Cameron."

House had been listening with fait amusement to the banter between the lawyers, but at this he sat up in his chair and sent a searching glance around the tiny courtroom.

The prosecutor was on his feet again: "The prosecution objects. This witness was not on the witness list! We've had no time to depose her. I ask the court to grant a brief recess to allow me to consult with the defence to arrange an interview with Dr. Cameron."

Stark picked up a file from his desk: "Your Honour, I have in my hand no fewer than three statements given by Dr. Cameron to the police regarding this case. I would ask you, Your Honour, to ask the prosecutor to explain his definition of a deposition, which is clearly very different to the law's."

Simon Jones flushed angrily, Stark was making him look a fool, and the case hadn't even begun.

"Your Honour-"

She held up her hand: "I'm going to allow Dr. Cameron's testimony. This is, after all, a preliminary hearing, so I think we can dispense with certain formalities."

"Thank you, Your Honour," Sebastian Stark bowed graciously in her direction, "The defence calls Dr. Allison Cameron."

The bailiff pulled open the heavy doors of the court to admit her.

For a moment, House thought that it was Cuddy, but he quickly saw that he was wrong. Cameron just looked like she'd gotten dressed out of Cuddy's closet. She wore a very tight fitting black suit, with the skirt ending just on her knee. A red silk blouse set off her red lipstick and red pumps to perfection. Her hair was tied up in a French knot which showed off the nape of her shapely neck. She didn't even glance in her boss' direction as she entered the court and took the witness stand.

The prosecutor approached with a sour expression to swear her in.

She waved away the offer of the Bible with a careless hand. "I'm an atheist, Your Honour," she explained to the judge, "So there's not much point in my swearing on a Bible."

For a second, the judge was nonplussed; in all her years on the bench she'd never met anyone who'd refused to swear on the Bible. She gave a quick glance around the room, as though searching for someone to help her. There was no one, so she simply asked: "Well, what do you want to swear on?"

Cameron smiled faintly: "How about my medical license?" she suggested, "It may not have the mysticism of a religious text, but at least you know that it's something that I wouldn't like to lose."

The judge gave a helpless shrug and the now thoroughly disorientated prosecutor went through the motions of swearing the doctor in. House watched her carefully; if he didn't know better, he could have sworn that she was amusing herself at the judge's expense.

When he had finished, and she had stated and spelled her name for the record, Sebastian Stark approached her.

"Dr. Cameron, how do you know Dr. House?"

It was a mild opening gambit designed to make her relax a bit before the harder questions.

She crossed her legs and leaned into the microphone: "Dr. House is my boss. I am one of three fellows that work for him at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital."

"And how long have you known him?"

After a moment's reflection she replied: "Two years, eight months, three weeks, four days and…" she checked her watch casually, "…about three and a half hours."

Stark smiled at her response: "So, longer than a lot of couples do before they get married."

"Mr. Stark, please confine yourself to questions," the judge anticipated the prosecutor's objection.

"Of course, Your Honour," he cast her an attractive smile, "Dr. Cameron, how well do you know Dr. House?"

"I work with him practically everyday. I know him very well."

House's eyebrows went up at this assertion: did she actually think that she knew him? or was she lying?

"And what kind of a man is he?"

"Objection, Your Honour," Simon Jones was on his feet, "How well Dr. Cameron does or does not know Dr. House is irrelevant- as is her personal opinion of him. This is a drugs case, not an investigation into the personality of the defendant."

"It goes to character, Your Honour," Stark shot back, "The prosecution wished to paint my client as a drug-addict when he is, in fact, a functioning, valuable member of society."

There wasn't a person in the room who believed that lie, but when Sebastien Stark said it, you _wanted_ to believe it.

"I'm going to allow Dr. Cameron's testimony- but keep it relevant," Judge Davis warned.

"Thank you, Your Honour," the defence council turned back to the woman on the stand, "Dr. Cameron?"

"Dr. House is the best doctor I have ever worked with," she spoke without hesitation, "but his is somewhat difficult to work _for_."

"Could you elaborate on that?"

"He is unpredictable, sometimes unreliable and often rude."

House was lost: weren't they trying to make him look good?

"But you've stayed with him for almost three years? Why is that?"

"He's a genius," Allison replied simply, "I learned a lot from him. I've seen him cure patients that other doctors thought were hopeless cases. He doesn't need to be a good person to be a brilliant doctor."

"In all the time you have know him, has he always used Vicodin?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He's in pain."

"Could you elaborate on that?"

"Dr. House suffered an infarction some years ago," she turned to the judge preparing to explain, "Basically, he developed a blood clot in his leg. The ER doctors couldn't find anything wrong with him. So, they wrongly assumed that he was faking his pain in order to get drugs," here she cast Tritter a look, "he was eventually admitted to hospital where, after three days of agony, he managed to diagnose himself, Unfortunately, it was already too late. They removed the clot but the pain was so bad that he had to be put into an artificial coma in order to cope with-"

"Your Honour, are we really expected to listen to a litany of the defendant's sufferings?" The prosecutor sounded irritated.

"Your Honour, the defence will spare the apparently queasy prosecutor," Stark shot him a look of malicious amusement, "If he will stipulate that Dr. House continues to suffer from chronic pain."

Caught between a rock and a hard place, the other lawyer made his choice: "So stipulated."

Stark turned back to Allison: "Dr. Cameron, is there any doubt in your mind that Dr. House needs his pain medication?"

"None whatsoever."

"Thank you, Dr. Cameron. Now, when did you first become aware of Dr. Tritter's investigation into Dr. House's use of his _legally prescribed pain medication_?"

This guy was good, House thought appreciatively.

"When he spent a night in jail after being arrested by Detective Tritter," she glanced at the cop seated behind the prosecutor.

"Were you surprised when you realised that he was under investigation?"

"Of course."

"Why, specifically?"

"Because, to the best of my knowledge, Dr. House was arrested for 'driving dangerously under-the-influence'."

"Let the record show that in his report, defence exhibit A, Detective Tritter cites exactly this as the reason for my client's arrest. He also says, and I quote: "his pupils appeared dilated"."

House sat up in his seat. Surely Tritter couldn't have been that stupid.

"Why is that surprising, Dr. Cameron?"

She smirked slightly: "It's a well-know medical fact that Vicodin doesn't cause the pupils to dilate."

"Something that someone outside the medical world wouldn't necessarily know?"

"Exactly."

"So," Stark chose his words with care, "If someone wanted a reason to arrest someone on a drugs charge, they might decide to use dilated pupils as justification, whether the individual was under the influence or not?"

"Your Honour, the prosecution strenuously objects to the insinuations being made by the defence council!"

"Mr. Stark," the judge spoke warningly, "Be careful."

"Withdrawn," he directed his gaze once more at Allison, "Why do you believe Detective Tritter arrested Dr. House?"

"Your Honour-" Simon Jones didn't even get to finish his sentence.

"Mr. Jones, there is no impressionable jury. I am quite capable of making up my own mind. I would like to hear Dr. Cameron's opinion."

He sat down with a frustrated expression on his face.

"I believe Detective Tritter arrested Dr. House for personal reasons. I believe that he did it to make him pay for a perceived wrong. I believe that he is looking for revenge."

"What aspects of Detective Tritter's behaviour have show that this case is personal to him?"

"He has used underhanded methods to put pressure on Dr. House to force him to accept a plea-bargain."

"Such as?"

"He froze Dr. Wilson's bank accounts, as well as my own and Dr. Foreman's. He impounded Dr. Wilson's car and made it impossible for him to fill out prescriptions for his cancer patients. Detective Tritter wanted to use us to force Dr. House to take a deal."

"Objection, Your Honour. How can Dr. Cameron possibly testify as to Detective Tritter's motives?"

"Once again, Mr. Jones, I am capable of keeping an open mind," the judge's voice was crisp, "Please continue, Mr. Stark."

"Dr. Cameron, just one more question: do you think that Dr. House is guilty of any of the charges brought against him?"

She turned to look straight at Judge Davis, her jaw set and determined: "No. I don't think that he's guilty. He doesn't deserve to go to jail."

"Thank you, Dr. Cameron."

Sebastien Stark resumed his seat- but not before casting a challenging glance at the prosecutor, as though daring him to follow that.

* * *

AN: How was that? I hope the legal stuff wasn't too boring!


	5. A hypothetical situation

Disclaimer: not mine, never will be!

This is another super-long chapter. I hope you like it.

My thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially:

Limaccia: I hope that you like that Cam is actually doing something! I'm sorry you don't like the fic, though...:( If you have any suggestions, that would be great.

LadyKnight19: You'll find out where it's headed soon enough!

redxredxrose: I'm glad that you like this fic- thanks for the review!

The Awesome One: I'm really glad that you changed your mind!

SilvaK: I hope you like this chapter- thanks for the reassurance!

Melissa Jooty: I'm glad that you thought that House's lawyer didn't do a good job- I could have done better and I only know about law from JAG and A Few Good Men...and 12 Angry Men...and pretty much every courtroom drama I can lay my hands on...do you think I have a problem?? LOL

Please enjoy, and let me know what you think!

* * *

"Mr. Jones, do you have any questions for the witness?"

"Yes. Your Honour. If I couldn't just have one moment…" The lawyer leant over the back of his chair, apparently listening to something that Tritter was whispering in his ear. The detective was eyeing Cameron somewhat speculatively.

"Mr. Jones," the judge began, but the lawyer cut her off as he rose to his feet.

"Forgive me, Your Honour," he apologised politely.

Cameron eyed the prosecutor that approached her. He had the curious appearance of a stoat before it struck.

"Dr. Cameron, would you care to comment on your relationship with Dr. House?"

Her gut clenched, but she appeared outwardly calm.

She leaned slightly back in her chair and replied simply: "No."

The lawyer's smirk was wiped off his face and he turned to the judge: "Your Honour," he pleaded.

"Dr. Cameron, you will answer the question," Judge Davis instructed.

"Forgive me, Your Honour, but I _did_ answer the question," Allison insisted, "He asked me whether I would _care to comment_. I told him that I wouldn't care to. I will, however, if he deems it important."

Her bare-faced insolence was concealed with a bland smile. Simon Jones bristled.

"What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Dr. House?" he positively barked the question.

"He's my boss. I am his employee," she replied calmly, although she was starting to realise where this was heading.

"And do all boss' date their employees?" He asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Are you asking me to testify as to nature of every employer/employee relationship?," she asked in mock-confusion, "I'm afraid that only a psychologist or a sociologist would be able to do that. I'm just an immunologist."

House smiled to himself at the adroitness with which she managed to side-step a difficult question.

"Dr. Cameron," the lawyer snapped, irate that this young woman was getting the better of him, "Did you, or did you not, go out on a date with Dr. House?"

"Oh. Is that what you wanted to know? Why didn't you just say so?" she inquired innocently, "Yes, Dr. House and I went out on one date."

"Your Honour, I fail to see the relevance that this line of questioning has to the case," Stark was on his feet.

"As do I," Judge Davis turned to the prosecutor, "Could you enlighten us, Mr. Jones?"

"We intend to prove, Your Honour, that Dr. Cameron would say anything to protect Dr. House."

Wilson slumped in his seat. The implication was damning. He was basically saying that Cameron was committing perjury. Which she was- House knew it, and Wilson knew it. But the fact that it was being insinuated in open court was worrying.

Allison carried the war into the enemy's camp: "Excuse me, Mr. Jones. Am I to understand that you are accusing me of committing perjury?" Her eyes were steely.

The prosecutor balked at the suggestion. The insinuation would have been enough in a jury trial, but with only a handful of people in the room, Dr. Cameron wasn't afraid to hit back.

"I am not accusing you of anything, Dr. Cameron," he hastened to reassure her, "I am simply saying that maybe, _without realising it_, you want to give testimony that will help Dr. House's case."

Stark didn't bother to intervene. Allison was perfectly able to handle that one by herself.

"I assure you, Mr. Jones, I am in full possession of _all _my faculties," her smile was saccharine-sweet, "Thank you for your concern."

The lawyer ground his teeth and was about to retort when the judge intervened: "I don't want this little skirmish to go on for the next few hours," she eyed Allison sternly, "Dr. Cameron, are you or have you ever been in a relationship with Dr. House?"

"No," she replied firmly, "We had dinner once. That was it."

"Your Honour, that doesn't change the fact that she could still be hoping that the defendant would be so grateful at her help during the trial that-"

He was clutching at straws. He knew it, and so did everybody else. In any case, his argument was cut off when Allison rose to her feet.

"You Honour, I would ask to be excused," her eyes blazed but her tone was punctiliously polite. House had never seen her look more magnificent; she was the perfect picture of righteous indignation.

"Sit down, Dr. Cameron," the judge said kindly before turning to the lawyer to deal with him, "Mr. Jones, I'm surprised at your lack of professionalism. Apart from anything else, how can you possibly speculate as to what will happen after this hearing is over? This line of questioning is off limits- is that clear?"

"Yes, Your Honour," the lawyer sounded like a sullen child.

"Now, do you have any more questions to put to Dr. Cameron?"

Simon Jones looked over his shoulder at Tritter who gave him a nod.

"Yes, I do."

"Well, go ahead, but remember what I said," she warned him.

"You testified that the defendant has been taking these pills since his infarction?"

"Yes, since he was discharged- I think."

"You also testified that you don't think that he deserves to go to jail."

"That is correct."

Where was he going with this?

"You haven't told us if you think that the defendant is addicted to Vicodin or not."

"I didn't, did I?" Her mouth was dry. This was it. Anything else that she had said could simply be written off as her misreading his character. But she knew what was coming now.

"And, in your medical opinion, Dr. Cameron, is the defendant addicted to these pills?" The prosecutor was practically rubbing his hands together with glee at the thought of the response he would surely get. One thing that Tritter had said was that Cameron would not be able to give an out-and-out lie under oath.

House was certain that a look of wariness stole into Cameron's eyes, but she didn't hesitate before replying.

"Over time, the body builds up a certain resistance to pain medication. Dr. House has had to gradually increase his dosage. But that isn't necessarily a symptom of addiction," the prosecutor looked dissatisfied with her response, so she went on, "If you're asking me if I think that he is a junkie, my answer is emphatically 'no'."

He was stumped for a moment, then his eyes narrowed: "I want to be sure that we are clear," Wilson was practically holding his breath, "you are saying that you believe that Dr. House is not addicted to Vicodin?"

There was a pause. "That is correct," she said firmly.

James Wilson stared at her in wonderment. She'd just effectively killed her own career. The prosecutor was clearly about to show that she was lying.

"Tell me. Dr. Cameron," the lawyer's voice was silky smooth, "Would you be able to identify an addict from their behaviour?"

She knew where this was leading. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes," he repeated, "Your Honour, this is prosecution exhibit 7B," he held up a notebook, "Dr. Cameron, could you identify this and read this highlighted passage, please?"

"It's the Princeton Plainsboro pharmacy log," she said tonelessly, "from December 24th of last year."

"And who's signature it that beside the highlighted entry?" He was relentless.

"Dr. House's."

"Your Honour, I would like to enter this as prosecution exhibit 7C," he held up a single sheet of paper, "This is the death certificate of a cancer patient of Dr. James Wilson. Let the record show that the time of death is entered at being 9.30pm on December the 24th," he turned to the woman on the witness stand again, "According to the pharmacy log, the defendant picked up Dr. Wilson's patient's prescription at what time, Dr. Cameron?"

She glanced at the page before replying in a compose tone: "10.03pm."

Wilson slumped in his seat. There was no way that House was getting out of this. But House was watching Cameron's face; she seemed to be deciding something.

"Dr. Cameron," the prosecutor was triumphant, "Wouldn't you agree that stealing a dead patient's pain medication is something that an addict would do?"

She appeared amused: "Or someone in a great deal of pain- or a dealer," she agreed, "Wasn't the DA thinking of filing charges against Dr. House for intent to sell?"

Detective Tritter leaned forward in his seat: he suddenly didn't feel so confident. Cameron should be rattled, but instead she was making jokes.

"In light of this new evidence, are you prepared to retract your statement and admit that the defendant _does_ have a drug problem?"

"Of course not," she said.

"Dr. Cameron, you have just admitted that someone who would steal a dead patient's pills is an addict! The evidence shows-"

She cut across him: "I'm afraid that you haven't proved anything."

House sat up. It sounded pretty clear-cut to him.

The prosecutor apparently shared his view: "Prosecution exhibit 7D," he snapped, "is a security tape of the camera that covers the hospital pharmacy. Dr. House can clear be identified as the man who collected the pills. We have a sworn statement from the pharmacist saying that he gave the pills to the defendant at his request. And we have the pharmacy log which shows Dr. House's _own signature_. The evidence against his is clear."

She nodded placidly in agreement. "Admittedly, it does look bad," the smug smile returned to the prosecutor's face, "But can you show me one piece of evidence that proves what was in the bottle that Dr. House collected?"

Simon Jones was struck dumb. He stuttered, but nothing came out.

"Because it seems to me that unless you know _exactly_ what pills he took, you don't have a case," she leaned forward and looked the lawyer straight in the eyes, "The law is very clear on this; the burden of proof is on you."

He found his tongue at last: "Your Honour, we have offered ample proof that the defendant-"

Judge Davis cut across him and turned to the young doctor: "Are you saying that that bottle didn't contain painkillers?"

"For the sake of argument, let's say that someone overheard Dr. Wilson and Dr. House talking. That that someone realised that Dr. House had already tried to steal a certain patient's pills in order to alleviate some of the pain he was feeling due to a drastic reduction in his meds," she shot Tritter an angry look, "And what if that person knew Dr. House well enough to realise what he would do next. They'd try to stop him from harming his case, wouldn't they?," Tritter was staring at her in a kind of horrified awe, "So, they go to the hospital pharmacy, distract the pharmacist with an order, and pour the pain medication into their lab coat pocket. While the pharmacist is still distracted, they replace the pills with placebos and put them back. Dr. House picks up the pills none the wiser."

"B-but, the pharmacy would have logged the loss of the pills," Simon Jones stuttered.

"Let's just say that this good Samaritan also had the sense to put the pills back later on."

"Dr. Cameron, are you saying that you swapped the pills?" The judge was studying her face intently.

"Your Honour, I couldn't possibly answer a question that could put my career in jeopardy," Allison gave an amused smile, "But I will say this: check the pharmacy log to see who was pick up prescriptions between the time that the patient died and the time that Dr. House came to collect his prescription. And then look at the latest inventory for the pharmacy, and you'll see that there is nothing missing."

Sebastian Stark was on his feet: "I would like to enter the inventory of the hospital pharmacy, signed by Dr. Cuddy, as defence exhibit B," he passed it to the bailiff, who passed it to the judge, "You will note that as medication is accounted for," he picked up a typed page from his desk, "This is defence exhibit C, a list of no fewer than seven people who filled prescriptions at the hospital pharmacy on December 24th between 9.30pm and 10.03pm. Of those seven people, there are two patients who did not know my client and five other people that worked in the hospital."

The judge read the list aloud: "Dr. Roberts."

"A surgeon, Your Honour," Stark explained.

"Dr. Adams filled a prescription for lithium."

"He works in the psych ward," Allison volunteered.

"Dr. Martin, Dr. Wong and," she paused and blinked, "Dr. Cameron, at 9.55pm."

"Your Honour, clearly this is a fabrication!"

"See for yourself, Mr. Jones," Allison said as she handed him the pharmacy log that she had been holding, her voice was honeyed, "You should be more careful to take into account _all_ the evidence."

He couldn't speak, he just stared blankly at the page. Tritter was slumped in his seat, he looked like a defeated man.

Judge Davis turned to the defendant: "Dr. House, please stand up. I have no choice but to throw this case out. There is insufficient evidence to warrant a jury trial and I think that to allow one would be a waste of this court's time," she surveyed the small gathering with a stern gaze, "I suspect that if it wasn't for Dr. Cameron, you would be spending the next ten years in prison. I also think that you would probably deserve to. But I'm only here to uphold the law," she turned to the prosecutor, "This case shouldn't have been brought before me with such an obvious hole in the evidence. I suspect that the reason that charges were filed was at Detective Tritter's insistence. Whatever Dr. House did to you, you're going to have to live with it. Your conduct, Detective Tritter, as much as his, is to blame in this matter. You abused your power. I suggest you think long and hard about your reasons for pursuing Dr. House, and question why you were so determined to put him in jail."

There was silence for a moment, and then the judge looked at the woman seated below her.

"Dr. Cameron, you are excused," she paused, "I don't know why you chose to do what you did today but I hope that it was for the right reasons," her eyes searched the young woman's face.

Allison got to her feet and stepped down from the stand. Her eyes briefly met the judge's; there was sadness as well as sincerity in her voice: "So do I, Your Honour. So do I."

She turned on her heel and strode out of the courtroom, ignoring the cop and the oncologist that tried to get her attention. She paused only to exchange a few words with Sebastian Stark; saying a whispered thank-you and telling him that she would see him later.

She didn't once glance at House. She hadn't, in fact, looked at him once since she'd entered the court-room. The diagnostician's eyes followed her as she made her way out of the room, but he didn't make one move to detain her. He simply watched her regal progress and thought that he'd never seen her look so proud, or so self-possessed.

He didn't know the effort that self-possession cost her.

* * *

AN: Was that ok?? Please review and let me know!


	6. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Sorry I haven't updated in so long- I have exams on at the moment, so I'm pretty stressed and I don't have much time for writing. Sorry!

This chapter is dedicated to Dr Cameron and SilvaK who seem to review my fics no matter what! Thanks you guys, I really appreciate it!

And to those of you that think the fic is a bit incomplete (I admit that Cam's motivations are pretty important) I promise that all will be revealed in the next chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

The judge retired and the prosecutor stormed off in high dudgeon. Cameron's ploy to rattle the opposition with a shit-hot lawyer had worked.

Only House, Wilson, Stark and Tritter were left.

Nobody spoke.

"What, no congratulations?" House broke the silence with a sarcastic question.

Tritter approached him.

"Is this where you tell me that you'll be there every time I look over my shoulder?" The diagnostician asked.

Detective Tritter smiled: "Actually, I wanted to say good luck," House looked dumbfounded, "I hope I'm wrong about you. And if Dr. Cameron was willing to risk jail by committing perjury," Stark gave a faint cough, "I mean _suspected_ perjury, then maybe I am wrong."

House said nothing. He was incapable of speech, or even of giving one of those vague nods that he did that could mean so little or so much. He just stared at the cop.

Tritter turned to Stark and held out his hand: "I've a suspicion that if you'd been on my side, we would have won- not matter what Dr. Cameron said."

Stark smiled at the compliment, and grasped his hand.

"We could use someone like you working for the State of New Jersey- but I doubt we could afford you," he smiled as he spoke.

The lawyer laughed: "Actually, I'm a public defender now. The pay-cut's no joke, but at least I get to put people away- defending the guilty doesn't exactly help me sleep at night."

"Well, then the next time we meet I won't have to worry that you're going to get someone that I've worked hard to put away off the hook."

The two men shook hands again, and after favouring the still silent House with a nod, and the stunned oncologist with a brief goodbye, the cop left the courtroom.

"I've got a date," Sebastian Stark checked his watch, "And it looks like I've already kept her waiting long enough."

He shook James' hand: "You're Dr. Wilson, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Because Allison said that if anyone came to watch the bloodletting, it would be you," watched him closely, "I heard you were going to change your testimony. That was brave of you," the oncologist made a brief self-depreciating gesture, "But, for future reference, leave the deals with the cops to the professionals."

"I suppose you're going to be billing me for all these gems of wisdom," House's cut in.

The lawyer laughed: "You couldn't afford me. Besides, like I said, this was a favour to Allison. If it had been up to me, I would have let you go to jail. And from everything that she's told me, you deserve to."

"That was _way _harsh," he said is his best shocked Valley-girl voice.

The lawyer picked up his briefcase: "I'd say good luck Dr. House, but I think we both know that I wouldn't mean it," he eyed the doctor sternly, "You let Allison get up on that stand and lie for you. She could have gone to jail if they'd realised that she forged Cuddy's signature on that report," something behind House's eyes flickered; he'd assumed that Cuddy had been in on it, "You let her lie for you, and you didn't say a word. She told me you were a bastard, but she never said anything about being this selfish."

He turned to go, and then paused, adding: "Next time you're in court- and you _will_ be, people like you are creatures of habit- don't call me. I might be tempted to switch sides and bury you."

He strode out of the courtroom.

"Nice guy," said House as the door banged shut behind him, "One of these days, he's going to get shot by an angry client."

Wilson sighed: "Nothing's changed, has it?"

"You'd be disappointed if it had."

He limped towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Wilson called after him.

"I thought I'd celebrate with a few pills and a hooker," he responded as he pushed out the door and left Wilson standing alone in the empty court-room.

* * *

AN: How was that?? Please let me know and bring a smile to my face- these days I have so little to smile about...:(


	7. Of reasons and advice

Disclaimer: Not mine- more's the pity!

My thanks to everyone who reviewed, but mostly to:

SilvaK: thanks- I'm really nervous about the exams, I hope that yours are going ok. I'm glad that you liked the update.

Allie09: I'm super stressed out- but thanks for asking! I hope you like this chapter!

HouseCam63: Thanks- I need all the luck I can get...updating when I should be studying!

schrodingers cat 13: I hope that your exams are going well- good luck with the rest. I'm glad that you like the fic.

This chapter is dedicated to...

Limaccia: I hope that this was the reason you were looking for, and I promise that all will be explained later! Thanks for all the reviews, I love hearing what you think. Criticism is really important for anyone who wants to get good at something. I hope that you like this chapter- I thought that it might be time for a bit of a break from senseless angst!

Enjoy, all!

* * *

She had dinner with Sebastian at an intimate bistro that she'd never been to before. The food was great and the whole place managed to achieve the right balance between class and arrogance- rather like Sebastian himself, Cameron thought and then smiled into her wine glass at the idea.

"At last," he spoke in a rallying tone, "A smile. I was thinking you'd forgotten that we're supposed to be celebrating."

She smiled fully then: "No, I hadn't forgotten."

"Good," he looked at her almost admiringly, "You know, you really were amazing on the stand," she made a vague gesture as if to dismiss his statement, "No, really. I've prepped witnesses for weeks before a trial who still freeze in front of a jury."

"We didn't have a jury," she reminded him.

"I know, that's why it's even more impressive," seeing her inquiring gaze, he elaborated, "It's easier to impress twelve people who know nothing about the legal system than it is to impress a judge. Judge's think they've seen it all."

"Which is why you're there to remind them that they haven't," she teased, then she suddenly became serious, "I want to thank you again for coming here to help me out. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You'd have managed, I think," he was suddenly watching her intently: like a cat at a mouse-hole.

She drew back a bit: "What?"

"I hope you don't mind my saying that I'm having some trouble understanding why you called in a favour for such a jerk."

Her lips curved into a smile: "Maybe I like the excitement," she answered almost coquettishly, trying to put him off.

"No. I don't think it's that."

She titled her chin defiantly at his tone. Why was everyone always trying to analyse her; to look for motivations? She'd done a good deed, she got someone off a drugs charge- wasn't that enough?

"I guess I'm just a sucker for hopeless cases," her tone was tart.

Stark looked faintly amused: "No, I don't think it's that either."

"Well, when you're done psycho-analysing me, please let me know."

Her spurt of temper met with a smile: "Oh, I was done the minute you walked into court."

He didn't go on, and seemed quite content to let it hang in the air. Finally, she cracked:

"Fine. I give up. What did you conclude?"

"It's pretty obvious, actually. Even a lame- I mean _blind _man could see it," he was starting to enjoy himself, "You're in love with him."

She just stared at him, dumbfounded. How had he found out? She'd had no interaction with her boss in front of Stark, she'd stayed cool and detached on the witness stand _and_ she hadn't brought up House's name once at dinner.

"You didn't look at him once- it's a dead give-away," he sounded unconcerned as he looked at her frozen face, "More wine?" He proffered the bottle casually.

Lawyers, Cameron thought savagely, were just as bad as doctors- always poking, prodding and analysing. It was infuriating to think that she was so easy to read.

"Cheer up, Allison," he said consolingly, "The man's so busy being 'witty' (he spoke with obvious inverted commas) that he'd need someone to staple it to his forehead for him to notice."

She laughed then, and began to relax.

"That's better," he told her, "Although, I must say that I don't think much of your taste."

"I don't either," she sighed, suddenly glum.

Stark looked at her sympathetically: "It's worse when you're not blind to their faults, isn't it?"

She nodded: "I know he's a selfish jerk that doesn't care about anybody but himself…but it doesn't change how I feel."

"What can I say except life's a bitch?"

Allison laughed suddenly: "Shouldn't you be trying to reassure me? Tell me that maybe one day he'll care for me? Or that I'll find someone a million times better- who's rich and handsome, and adores me?"

"Why? Platitudes never make me feel better- how about you?"

She thought about it for a second: "I guess you're right."

"But I will tell you this, in all my time on Earth I've learned only one thing of value."

"Trial is war, second place is death?"

"Ok," he amended, "Two things."

She rolled her eyes.

"Never buy a used car," his face was deadly serious.

"That's it!?" she cried indignantly.

"Seriously. A friend of mine bought a used car- ten years later it broke down, just like that!" she was struggling to keep a straight face, "True story," he added.

Cameron couldn't help it; she exploded with laughter. The other diners turned to stare.

"You're going to get us kicked out," he said in a mock-scandalized tone, "Try to have a little decorum."

"And here was I thinking you were going to console me about my tangled love life!" She grinned at him.

"As far as I can tell, you don't have a love-life to get tangled."

"Ouch," she said in a mock-hurt tone, "Tell me about yours then- so I'll have something to aspire to!"

He gave her one of his amused glances: "Maybe when you're older."

She fought against it, but she couldn't help it. The laughter bubbled up and as she gave way to her mirth the other diners turned to glare disapprovingly.

* * *

AN: How was that?? I hope you liked it- I know it was a bit silly, but there's lots more angst to come so I thought a break might be nice!


	8. Paying your debts

Disclaimer: Not mine.

My thanks to everyone who let me know what they thought of the last update.

SilvaK: thanks for the review- I'm glad that you liked the last chapter!

Allie09: I'm glad you enjoyed it!

HouseCam63: I hope you like the start of the angst!

Limaccia: I'm REALLY glad that you liked the last chapter- I know it was a bit light, but sometimes I get tired of writing only angst. This one is a bit more in the spirit of the story. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"You don't look like a man who's celebrating."

Greggory House shifted from his hunched position in his office chair, turning his head towards the doorway where Allison Cameron was standing.

The light from the hallway behind her caught the auburn tones in her now unbound hair and turned them to a flame gold. In the darkened office she was a glorious apparition; an avenging angel in an unlikely setting.

He shook off these uncharacteristically fanciful thoughts, chalking them up to the half-bottle of whiskey that he had just consumed.

House answered her greeting with his usual caustic wit: "Inside I'm dancing."

She smiled faintly: "I'd pay to see that," she responded with light humour.

He said nothing but just looked at her: she seemed more like Cameron now. In court he'd almost mistaken her polished, self-possessed exterior for Cuddy's. Here, in his office, with her hair flowing freely over her shoulders and her red lipstick faintly smudged so that her mouth looked soft and inviting, she was Cameron again.

Or maybe not.

There was almost a crispness in her voice as she said: "Since you're not doing anything, maybe we could talk now."

He got to his feet; "Well, I have plans. So I guess it'll have to be tomorrow- sorry," he added insincerely.

"I won't be here tomorrow, House," she reminded him.

"Why, are you dying or something?" He asked sarcastically as he hobbled around his desk and pulled on his jacket.

"No," she said, keeping her temper, "But I did quit."

"Right. I keep forgetting- you seem to do that, or threaten to do that, so often."

He limped to the exit.

"I kept you out of jail, House," her voice held him back, "I can send you back if I want to."

"And risk going to prison for perjury?" his smile was smug, "I think even God's gift to the legal circuit would have trouble getting you off the hook."

She looked him straight in the eye: "You owe me, House."

He said nothing. He knew she was right.

House limped back to his desk and sat down: "You have fifteen minutes," he said shortly, trying to ignore her satisfied smile, "I'm timing you."

She dragged a chair from the conference room into House's office and placed it squarely in front of his desk.

She looked thoughtful as she faced him across the desk, seemingly searching for words.

He watched her with interest.

"I suppose I really want to talk to you about Wilson and Cuddy," she started slowly, carefully choosing her words as if she were speaking in another language and thinking in another.

"Wilson and Cuddy?" he repeated her words blankly. If he had been expecting anything, it hadn't been that.

"Yes- in a way- I think," she didn't seem to sure, but she went on with more confidence, "I suppose you know that Wilson tried to change his testimony?"

It wasn't really a question, so he said nothing.

"He was going to lie to the police to keep you out of jail," she looked him straight in the eye, "I think Cuddy would have too- if there had been no alternative."

They stared at each other; he looked away first.

"Is there a point somewhere in our future?" he asked, too tired to try to be witty, "Not that I mind you wasting your own time, but…"

"I want to know what you're going to do about it," there was steel in her gaze as well as in her voice.

House stared at her, faintly incredulous: "That's it? That's all you wanted to ask me?" he laughed, "The answer is nothing. What did you expect me to do?"

"Thank them," she said simply.

His chin suddenly came up; he understood at last- she was waiting for him to express his gratitude to her. Before he could tell her as much, she spoke:

"You're wrong, you know," Cameron's tone was almost amused.

"About what?"

"I'm not looking for you to say 'thank you' to me- I'd be waiting a long time if I was."

How had she known what he was thinking? Perhaps he was becoming predictable. He almost shook his head to banish the thought.

"Well, what are you looking for, then?" his voice was tinged with asperity.

"I want you to start appreciating what you've got," she replied, "Wilson and Cuddy would have lied to protect you- how many people would do that for _anyone_, let alone someone who forged prescriptions and stole pills to get high?"

He bristled, something that he probably wouldn't have done if he had been completely sober.

"I was _in pain_," he said through gritted teeth. The subject was off limits.

The fact that he thought that he had the right to be defensive incensed her: _he_ had broken the law, _he _had lied to the police, _he_ had made life difficult for his boss, his best friend and his fellows, and now he thought that he could explain away his actions with his leg.

Had he any idea of the hell she had been going through over this? Of how many nights she had spent awake trying to think of anything else but House being sent to prison?

"What the hell do you know about pain?" her voice was low and venomous, and he looked at her, somewhat startled, "You don't know anything about _real_ pain- all you think about is _your_ leg, _your_ pills, _your_ next fix. What about everybody else? Did you ever stop to think that they might be in pain too? They just don't wallow in it like you do."

He opened his mouth to object, or to shout her down, or to shut her up with some well-chosen insult, but she didn't give him the opportunity to speak.

"House, for once in your life, just shut up and listen to me," she ordered, "The difference between you and everybody else is that you think having a bum-leg gives you the right to be an asshole- that it allows you to give yourself up to the _pleasure_ of being in pain- because you _do_ enjoy it," she insisted, "Everyone else is in pain too- they just have to get over it. Do you seriously think that all of this wasn't hard on Wilson too? Do you think that he wanted to sell-out his best-friend? Do you think that this was easy for him? He would have gone to _prison _for you- does that mean nothing?"

"My relationship with Wilson is none of your business!" he snapped.

"No, it's not," she agreed, "But when have you ever stayed out of anything that wasn't your business? It's the same as with Tritter- you treated him like crap, what did you expect from him?"

"You said you didn't agree with what he did," he was watching her closely.

She tried to explain: "House, he was doing his job- he was just using _your_ methods. But he was right- you do deserve to go to jail."

"Then why did you lie?"

She sighed: "Does it really matter?"

"I want to know," he replied.

She was silent for a moment.

"I lied because you weren't going to help yourself," she suddenly smiled: "I lied because, with your big mouth, you wouldn't have lasted ten seconds in prison."

He looked at her speculatively, as though weighing the veracity of her statement.

"Oh, stop it, House," she was suddenly weary, "Stop analysing me. I'm tired of it."

He seemed taken aback.

"Cameron, what are you doing here? What do you want?"

Half of her was crying out 'I want you' but the other half, the wiser half said: "I want you to look around and appreciate what you've got. You're wasting your life and you're miserable. And even worse, you're making everyone around you miserable too," she looked straight into his eyes, "As long as you keep wallowing in your own pain, you're never going to see anyone else's. And unless you can put your feelings aside for someone else, you'll never be happy."

He stood up: "That's it? I have to put others first, then I'll be happy? Gee, I wonder why no one thought to tell me that before?" his tone was biting.

"You're capable of doing it," she told him quietly, "I've seen you do it. You let Stacey go even though she would have stayed if you'd asked her. You put her first because you knew that she'd never be happy with you. You _can_ do it. You just don't want to."

She got to her feet.

"I'd like to think that you'll think about what I said, but I know you probably won't," she smiled almost sadly as she spoke, "But I want to know that this isn't about fixing you, or making you be like me. I helped you because you needed help. I did it without you having to ask because I knew that you wouldn't, and that you didn't know how. Did you ever stop to think that you're supposed to help out people that you care about? That you're supposed to do it without being asked?," she paused for a moment, "You're a selfish bastard, House, but for your sake, I really hope that you hear what I'm saying."

They stared at each other, neither one of them was willing to look away first.

A knock at the open office door distracted them. It was Wilson.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked the two doctors.

Cameron smiled at him: "No, I was just leaving."

She turned to her boss: "Now would be the perfect time to give it a try." It was a mild joke, but he didn't crack a smile.

"Goodbye, House."

She didn't proffer an outstretched hand- she had learned her lesson.

"Dr. Wilson," she acknowledged him as she made her way out of the office.

Both men watched her retreat.

"Am I right in thinking that she's not coming back?" James Wilson asked, although he was already certain of the answer. The finality in her tone had been marked.

"Well done, Sherlock," his friend's tone was laced with sarcasm.

"You let her quit?" the oncologist asked in disbelief.

"I didn't have much of a choice," House snapped. Why was everybody on his case all of a sudden?

"Did you even thank her for what she did for you today?" He wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answer to his question.

"She got something out of it," he said as he settled himself back down in his chair.

"Yeah, a grilling from a lawyer about her credibility as a witness."

"No, a fifteen-minute conversation with yours truly," he corrected.

Disbelief was written across Wilson's face: "Ri-ight. Because anything you would have to say would be worth risking jail time."

House was silent.

"What did you two talk about?" There was curiosity in the oncologist's tone.

His friend replied almost reluctantly: "She told me to look around and start appreciating what I've got."

"That's it?"

"Among other things."

His friend's heartfelt groan suddenly caused House to look up.

"What?"

"House, you're such an idiot."

"Everyone seems to be taking a shot today," the diagnostician remarked, "Is there any particular reason why I'm an idiot?"

"Because Cameron was talking about herself," Wilson explained as though to a five-year-old.

"I'm sorry?"

"House," James Wilson said in exasperation, "Cameron's in love with you, and if you weren't such a blind idiot, you would have realised it."

Greggory House appeared to be lost in thought. Yes, that would explain everything…

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AN: How was that? Did anyone see it coming?? Are you disappointed? (I hope not :( ) Please let me know what you thought! 


	9. Say hello and wave goodbye

Disclaimer: Not mine!

This is my last chapter. I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last ones- I really loved hearing what you had to say, especially as I'm doing my exams and I need lots of pick-me-ups!

I know that some of you might be disappointed with the ending- please just read it before you judge!

I would REALLY appreciate it if you would let me know what you think: what you liked, what you didn't etc.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, especially the usual crowd:

SilvaK: I'm going to miss getting your totally sweet reviews!

Limaccia: I appreciate what you're saying about pain. _However_, I DO think that House wallows in his (stuff like faking cancer to get high REALLY irritates me). As for emotional pain, yes, he does have some. All the same, I think that watching the man you love die from cancer might be a bit better than getting screwed (excuse me:) ) by your girlfriend...

Here's the last chapter- enjoy!

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**The next day.**

She was filling boxes when she heard a familiar knock on the door.

Allison Cameron sighed. She'd been expecting this visit- the way they had left things had been too unfinished, she'd just hoped to be gone before he finally made his way over to her apartment. Oh well, it couldn't be helped now, so she got slowly to her feet and picked her way carefully around the towers of books and junk that threatened to topple over.

She pulled the door open to see her boss standing there, cane raised as if he were about to knock again.

"I'm kind of busy, House. But come in if you want," she spoke in a clipped tone, and without waiting for a reply, she walked back into her living room and went back to work.

A series of soft thuds on the wooden floor told her that he was following her.

"You're moving," her boss looked at the boxes with surprise.

She suppressed the urge to reply 'no shit' and instead asked almost wearily: "What do you want, House?"

He looked ill at ease, standing in the doorway, tapping his cane against his foot the way he did when he really didn't want to be somewhere.

"I came to ask you why you lied for me."

She didn't bother to look up, but went on with her task: "I explained that yesterday."

She felt that if that was really all he was here for, then this was a superfluous conversation.

There was a long pause before he spoke again: "Wilson said it's because you're in love with me."

She looked up then, sending him a searching look from under lowered brows. For a brief moment, he felt as if he were a specimen under a microscope. Then she dropped her gaze.

"Did he now?" her tone was neutral, but he could detect faint amusement.

It certainly wasn't the answer that he had been expecting. He'd anticipated shock, embarrassment and denial. But never calm amusement.

He went on: "Is it true?"

She straightened from her task to look at him fully. When she spoke, her words surprised him once more, as did the laugh of disbelief in her voice: "Go home, House."

He didn't move.

Allison folded her arms.

"Let me explain to you why you're_ really_ here," he tiled his head in a mute denial that she could possibly guess his motives, "You're here to find out whether or not I'm in love with you, because if I am, it means that you can disregard everything I said to you yesterday. You can put it all down to my '_feelings_' for you," she practically spat the word, "and you won't have to take on board anything I told you. If I tell you that I'm in love with you, it lets you confirm everything you ever thought about me, and allows everything I told you to be the rantings of some little girl."

She paused for a moment and tilted her chin in a gesture of defiance: "So I'm not going to tell you. I'm not going to make things easy on you. I told you nothing but the truth last night, and if you didn't think that, then you would be here looking for something that'll make you feel better."

House couldn't speak; he had nothing to say.

She realised a little sadly that a man who was so articulate when it came to everything and anything could be struck dumb as soon as a _real_ conversation was forced upon him.

She shook her head: "You know, all that time you kept telling me that I was too young for you. But you were wrong: _you're _too young for _me_. You're just like a two-year-old that thinks if he keeps asking questions he can understand everything around him. Well, I'm sorry, but not everyone can be labelled."

She smiled suddenly at the expression of consternation on his face. It wasn't often that you saw Dr. Greggory House at a loss.

Taking pity on him, she said kindly: "If it helps, what I did yesterday wasn't just for you. I did it for Wilson and Cuddy, and Foreman and Chase. And me. Tritter screwed around with all of us to get to you. I don't think that we deserved that. But I _do_ think that you deserved to go to jail."

She carefully made her way across the floor and halted before him.

He looked down at the beautiful young woman smiling up at him and felt a pang of regret.

"You got a another chance, House. Don't screw it up."

He finally found his voice: "Good luck in your new job, Cameron," he told her somewhat awkwardly.

Allison walked him to the door, "Thanks. And I really hope that you find what you're looking for."

Her smile was so beautiful, and from the look in her eyes he knew that she meant what she said: after everything that had happened she still wanted him to be happy.

He surprised them both by pulling her into his arms for a quick hug. A silent 'thank you' that he was incapable of expressing in words.

For a brief moment, she felt his warm body pressed against hers, and the scratch of his stubble as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he was gone.

"Goodbye Dr. House," she whispered softly, as she closed the door behind him.

Tears threatened to rise up, but she brushed them angrily aside. She had shed far too many for him already.

Leaving New Jersey and House was painful, but she knew that it was the right decision. She'd given up the man she loved once before. She was stronger now, and she knew she could do it again.

Allison was filled with hope: maybe, just maybe, something that she had said would make House see that he needed to change- for the people around him, and for himself.

And maybe, one day, they'd meet again.

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AN: What do you think? I know it's a little sad, but it's also hopeful...isn't it?? Please let me know!

Also, sorry to everyone who wanted House and Cam to get together. I just _couldn't _do it. She's too strong. I really couldn't see her melting in his arms, or him running to the airport to tell her he loves her. Sorry! Don't hate me! My character just kind of took on a life of her own. And where she leads, I must follow...

I hope to start updating Taking Over soon. And mabye post another fic that I can't get out of my head!

Thanks you guys, you've been so great.


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